


while already fallen

by Imiaslavie



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (or rather... negotiations about having said negotiations), Alternate Universe - Human, Established Relationship, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Sympathetic Deceit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 13:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18053762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imiaslavie/pseuds/Imiaslavie
Summary: Virgil is warm against his side, trying to hide his feet under the too small plaid. The lights from the TV are reflecting on him, coloring his simple black T-shirt with gentle greens and blues. His darling Virgil. He doesn't know what kind of an absolutely disloyal thought has just passed through Patton's mind.





	while already fallen

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even have it in me to be surprised that my first proper fic for this fandom is _this_ instead of something simple.
> 
> I've been itching to write a story about polyamory for quite a time, but, admittedly, I didn't think I would do it for this fandom or that it would be angst-y. But it is what it is, I guess. It appeared in my head in the way it did, so I had to write it.
> 
> Additional CW, just in case: crying, a bit of panicking, thoughts of emotional infidelity.
> 
> Special thanks to charmingsides for looking over this thing.

Patton is a horrible person.

The absolute worst.

It's quite shocking to learn such a thing at the age of 24 when you're supposed to already know everything about yourself. It's disheartening.

It makes Patton fight against the tears welling up at the corners of his eyes and hold his breath so Virgil won't hear it hitching. But he will, of course. Patton could never control his tears when they come like that: raw, a wave of tight heat behind his eyes, his mouth curling, trying to hold in the gasps.

Virgil is warm against his side, trying to hide his feet under the too small plaid. The lights from the TV are reflecting on him, coloring his simple black T-shirt with gentle greens and blues. His darling Virgil. He doesn't know what kind of an absolutely disloyal thought has just passed through Patton's mind.

The night has been perfect, like all the nights they spend together, like everything they do together. They brought their favorite plaid, light-blue with a pattern of white clouds, which they like so much they refuse to use another even though it is too small to cover both of them properly. They brought some tea that smells like fresh mint and currant and tastes nice even cold. They put on _Spirited Away_ , ready once again to watch the story of friendship, growth and magic. But just as Virgil cuddled up to Patton, his palm coming to rest over his heart, a thought appeared in Patton's mind, something between an idea and a hope.

_I wish Dee was here with us._

Dee. His friend. His darling, precious friend, his colleague, who has always supported him; who has helped him expand his pun vocabulary until it included a lot of clever double entendres and innuendos that make Virgil blush so delightfully; who helps Patton grade papers long after working hours when he is overwhelmed by the amount and never asks for anything in return; who always has his back when too overzealous parents come with the sole purpose of arguing; who is embarrassed by those little snorts he makes when he laughs at one of Patton's jokes; who pretends to be angry at Patton for bringing too many cookies to share again, _Patton, stop fattening me up, what am I, your turkey for the next Thanksgiving?_

Patton is in love with him.

And he has been for some time already, he just didn't know how to interpret that extra bubbly happiness that nested in his chest, he just didn't understand where this sudden influx of calm and content has come, he just didn't question why the world that already has been so bright and warm and welcoming has become even brighter and warmer.

How could he, if he has Virgil whom he loves so much with all his heart?

His misbehaving, awful, disloyal heart which decided to do whatever it wishes after more than half a decade of being in a relationship.

Patton remembers so well the day he met Dee almost two years ago. Having a new teacher on stuff is always exciting, especially if it's a fellow Philosophy teacher. Patton just couldn't wait to visit one of his lectures and get a taste of his thinking. The man looked so composed and confident even with such a dishevelled hair that he had. They shook hands, and he said that his real name is tasteless and doesn't suit him at all and asked to call him 'D'. Even to this day, Patton still doesn't know his real name, even though sometimes he jokingly threatens to bribe his way into the administration office and read it on file.

Just thinking about all the playful banter they have with Dee fills Patton's heart with delight. But now it's bitter. Because having such feelings a betrayal of the man that currently lies in his arms.

“Hey, you're all tense,” Virgil says, his voice a bit muffled. “They'll go through the tunnel alright, don't worry.”

“Virgil.”

The sound that escapes Patton's mouth is more of a broken sob than a normal speech. It clearly puts Virgil on high alert, with how quickly he is scrambling into a sitting position.

“Pat? What's wrong?” he asks, and his palm that has been nesting over Patton's heart moves to lie on his neck, fingers applying just the tiniest amount of pressure, urging Patton to turn his head and look at him.

“I did something really bad,” Patton says, resisting the gentle nudging. He can't look Virgil in the eyes, not yet. But he is not a liar. He won't hide anything, They will talk, right now, and Patton will try his hardest to ensure that if any heart is going to be broken today, it will only be his. “I... did a while back ago. I had no idea I did. I only realized it now.”

“As in... right now? While watching a..?”

Gosh, it sounds so stupid! And weird, and backwards, but it's the truth and it makes Patton sob. No, he must concentrate, he must find the right words!

“I... I've been feeling so happy these past mo— months. Very happy.” No-no-no-no, it's already all very wrong! Virgil might think that— “I mean! I've always been happy with you! But lately it was—” Patton takes a deep breath. “Like I was overflowing. Like I was, like— like— like one of those fancy science-y measure glasses that Logan has, which he uses to mix all those pretty liquids, and I was full, and then there was _more_ , but I didn't overspill or lose anything, I just was— better. Better than the best. And I, l had no idea why!” he says earnestly and finally turns to face Virgil. His boyfriend's face is attentive, he really tries to make sense of the weird things Patton says. “And I just realized why. It's—” He chokes on the words. Oh, how horrible of a thing he is going to say!

“Yes?” Virgil says, his voice so soft, not trying to hurry things up but just supporting.

“It's Dee,” Patton chokes out. “He makes me that extra happy. My... my love for him makes me happy.” Patton blinks the tears away from his eyelashes. “Virgil.” His voice is shaking. “I'm _in love_ with him.” And Patton is such a _coward_ : he closes his eyes, the wet eyelashes feeling raw on his skin. “I love you just as much as I have before, as I always have. But I feel the same for him. And I just, as we've been sitting, like we always do, I just thought, I want him here with us, I want you both with me, I... I need both of you the same way, and I'm so sorry, Virgil, I'm sorry, I've never, I... I...!” He sobs rather ugly, breaths too hitched and unpredictable, they stifle any words that try to leave his mouth.

Virgil's gentle hands come to rest either side of Patton's neck, and Patton hears him breathe in and breathe out in even intervals, loud enough for Patton to hear. Oh, _oh_ , he wants to help Patton to breathe again. His wonderful Virgil, so strong, so selfless, helping him after hearing such horrible things. Patton owes him to try, so he tries to match his breathing to Virgil's, tries to ignore how watery his inhales sound. It's okay, everything's okay, he doesn't have a right to fall apart right now.

“That's right, just try to breathe with me. You've done so much, you can relax now, Pat. Just breathe, okay?” Virgil's fingers brush against the short hairs on Patton's nape, the gesture soothing, loving. Virgil still cares about him, of course he does, love doesn't just disappear.

Their faces are close, and Patton thinks he can smell the currant on Virgil's breath. This tea is really lovely, they should make it more often.

Little by little, Patton's breathing starts coming easier. His hands are clutching the thin fabric of Virgil's pants, right over his knee.

“You are doing really well, Pat,” Virgil half-whispers. “You've said quite a bit, yeah? How about you just keep breathing, just like that, and I talk now, okay? It's going to be fine, I promise,” Virgil adds hastily, seeing Patton's mouth once again curl in his attempt to hold back the upcoming tears. “I promise. I love you, and I promise everything is going to be alright. Come on, in... out... in... That's it, thank you, just keep the rhythm up.”

Patton tries so very hard, but the tears just won't stop. After maybe a third failed attempt to calm down, Virgil shifts away from Patton and reaches for the low table near the couch. Soon, Patton has soft tissues to wipe his eyes and nose with (and to nervously crumple in his palms) and a mug of lukewarm tea. He immediately starts drinking from it, trying not to slurp on the sweet beverage, and the action distracts him enough to transform his crying into a quiet sniffling.

Virgil's hand caresses Patton's thigh, tickles his knee, then stays a warm presence over it. His other hand fixes the plaid over their legs.

Feeling marginally calmer (at least on the outside), Patton clears his throat. “I'm... ready to listen.”

Virgil nods. “Well. Good. Because I don't think I could go another minute without telling you that you haven't done anything bad. I mean it. You haven't, and you aren't a bad person. You aren't a liar, you aren't a cheater, and I haven't ever, even once, doubted your love for me. And I don't doubt it now. You,” he continues, even more softly, his palm tightening a bit over Patton's knee, “are my amazing, perfect science-y measure glass that is able to contain so much love for the world and its people that I'm almost not surprised you could find it in yourself to fall in love while already fallen.” Patton stays silent, his eyes wide, his hands clutching the mug tightly, his breaths short and fast. Virgil gives him a soft, patient smile, his palms coming to lie over Patton's fingers and gently making him lessen the grip.

Virgil isn't a man of many words, he doesn't do serenades and big fanciful declaration. His gentle words of love and adoration are always precise and on point, so very _Virgil_ , and Patton treasures them. How does Virgil always know what to say?

How... how is he so calm?

“You... you seem to be taking this... very well,” Patton says carefully. He is not complaining, but... he is... worried. Confused.

Something shifts in Virgil's gaze. He takes the mug from Patton's hands and leans down to put it on the floor then straightens back.

“Can I be honest?” he says, and they both know it's not a real question, just a technicality. They're always honest with each other. “I'm _terrified_ , Pat.” A gasp leaves Patton's mouth at that admission. He squeezes Virgil's palm in his. Virgil squeezes back, continuing. “It's like my anxiety doing a trip down the goddamn Yerkes-Dodson curve, but it's a fucking _circle_ , and I'm feeling all of it and none of it at once. I just...” Virgil combs his fringe away from his face. “It's something I've never prepared myself for. It seems crazy.”

“I... I don't think anyone is prepared for something like that. I mean, I wasn't either!” Patton giggles nervously. “It all caught me by surprise.” To say the least.

“Surprises. Love those,” Virgil chuckles and then quickly adds: “Still not your fault in any way.”

“Maybe not,” Patton hesitantly agrees, chewing on his lower lip. “But now I have to, I don't know, fix it. And I have no idea how.”

“Patton. Not to sound too poetic? But there's nothing to fix, because nothing. Is. Broken.”

The determination in Virgil's voice catches Patton by surprise. Another gasp escapes him as he looks straight into Virgil's eyes that hold fire in them.

“Yes, it's scary. Yes, it's new. Yes, I'm jealous. Yes, my first instinct is to grab you and hide you. Yes, I will definitely need time to adjust. But I love you. And I know you love me. And—” Patton holds his breath. “We are going to it right.”

Right? "But... what is right?”

“We'll... look it up online. It's.... polyamory... right?” Uncertainty flashes across Virgil's face. “And, um. Open relationships. That kind of thing. I know _of_ it, but...”

“Nothing _about_ it,” says Patton, finishing the sentence for Virgil. “Virgil.” Patton moves closer, his hands coming to cup Virgil's jaw. “Are you... really going to do it with me?" No, not that. "For me?" No, still not it. "For us?"

Something softens in Virgil's gaze. His palms come to rest over Patton's. They're shaking, just enough to notice. “Of course. Of course I am,” Virgil says, leaning his forehead to rest against Patton's. “You just give me a night, dozen cups of tea and some conspiracies' podcasts to help me stay awake, and I'll figure it out. Or at least start to,” he adds with a humorless chuckle.

Oh. Right. Of course. Virgil will definitely need his alone time today (or, rather, tonight). Too much emotional turmoil for him. He won't be able to sleep peacefully, to talk or even bear another human's presence for quite a time. Quite possibly he will need to spend the whole next day cooped up in the bedroom. Back in the days, Patton used to worry so much when Virgil got like this: worry that Virgil causes himself more emotional harm that way, worry that Virgil doesn't trust him or was hurt by him. But over time Patton has learned that sometimes Virgil just needs to re-energize, and there's nothing wrong about it.

Patton tries not to dwell on the awkwardness of their conversation, on the abruptness of it. How incomplete it feels. Virgil clearly can't take any more of it today. Patton won't make him.

“Good,” Patton says and leans in to steal a quick kiss. “Do you want to finish the movie?”

Virgil nods. “You can roll out the couch. I'll make more tea.”

“Deal.”

They both get up, their hands lingering on each other's skin before they let go of each other and go into different directions. Patton visits the bathroom, splattering his face with cold water, massaging his tired puffy eyes with cool fingertips. He then ventures to the linen closet, taking out the bed sheet, blanket and pillow he always uses when he sleeps on the couch. He prepares everything, and just as he is smoothing the wrinkles on the pale-peach pillow, Virgil ventures back into the room, two gigantic mugs of steaming tea in his hands.

They settle, Patton resting his head on Virgil's chest, hugging him tightly. Virgil's hand is playing with his hair. It feels incredibly nice. When the movie inevitably comes to an end, they part with a sweet goodnight kiss, Virgil leaving Patton to sleep right on the couch. But neither of them would actually sleep tonight. Patton knows he would stare at the bare ceiling and dwell on everything that's happened and wait anxiously until morning to grab his laptop and research the stuff they need (he wish he could do it right now, but using electronics at night really stresses his eyes). Virgil, on the other hand, would not be so kind on his own eyes: he'll sit behind his PC for the most of the night, until his eyes start to burn, big headphones on his head, scrolling through dozens and dozens of websites.

Patton lets out a small unhappy chuckle, thinking about how horrible they both will look at the morning. Good thing he doesn't have classes until 11 AM tomorrow.

He shifts restlessly on the sheets, no position comfortable enough for him. He counts the quiet ticks of the clock, traces the texture of his phone case, feeling the bumps the shapes of stars and hearts, trying not to think too hard of anything bad, but worry refuses to leave his heart. What if Virgil was hurt too much and hid it well? What if when he reads up on polyamory he won't like what he finds? What if there is nothing useful to find? What if he tells Patton to stop tal— No, if Patton is to be sure about anything right now, is that Virgil won't deny him his dear friend. A friend that he is in love with. Oh God, what has he done!

Stairs squeak gently, almost inaudibly. The second stair from the bottom, the one they both keep forgetting to fix. Patton sits up in an abrupt motion. His eyes widen when he sees Virgil standing near the bottom of the stairs, his shoulders hunched.

Virgil comes closer in small steps, pauses near the couch — and then starts climbing onto it, wiggles closer to Patton and... envelops him in his arms. Patton is quick to return the embrace, clutching tightly onto Virgil's shoulders, hiding his face in his neck.

“Couldn't sit there. Not without you. Not tonight,” he whispers into Patton's hair, his breath hot on Patton's skin. “I really am scared. I'm sorry.”

 _'Don't be'_ , Patton wants to say. _'Me too'_ , he wants to say. “I'm glad you're here,” he says.

“Yeah.” A pause. Then: “I love you. More than anything.”

Patton barely manages to contain a sob. “Me too. I love you so very much.” He plants a kiss behind Virgil's ear. “We'll do everything together tomorrow, okay?”

Virgil simply nods, an action Patton rather feels than sees. They don't talk anymore after this, just shuffle even closer to each other, lots of skin-on-skin contact, hands running over shoulders or down the line of the spine, hot even through the fabric of their T-shirts. Patton listens carefully to the rhythm of Virgil's breathing in case it hitches in the beginnings of a sob. But nothing like it happens.

Patton tries not to think — and then feels bad about it, and then starts thinking even harder to make up for it — about how Virgil has gone — is going — through so much right now. And they've barely scraped the surface of this... problem? Issue? Predicament? All these words sit weird on Patton's tongue. They all are negative, and there isn't anything negative in this... _situation_ , he guesses. At least, there shouldn't be. At least, he hopes so.

Slowly, they both relax. Patton falls asleep to a sure presence of Virgil's gentle hand between his shoulder blades.

Patton's last thought, just before he falls asleep, is vague and fades right away, following him to his dreams.

_I wish Dee could be here with us._

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it. Patton's POV is hard for me, that's for sure. My personality is as far from his as it gets, so... yeah. I am planning to continue this, though I don't know when. Thanks for reading.


End file.
